They say that women don’t need men, and I believe that to be true. We don’t need men. But, by whatever powers may exist, does my young heart lie awake late at night and long to feel what it has never felt. My eyes wander to the moon and my soul out the window, in search of some companion that my selfish belief in fate says must be out there. Somewhere. I am searching.
The late nights usually surrendered to sleep
Are instead spent rolled over on our sides
Eyelids weak and the arms that hold up our heads weaker
As we run rivers of words out of our mouths.
The portal opens in those fleeting moments that feel like they are about to crescendo, about to climb the final step to see over the mountain top.
She carried around a lip gloss with her, reminiscent of jam and the fruits I used to eat in my youth. It appears darker in the bottle than on her lips, yet she says it is perfect the way it is.
Comments
omg i relate so hard to this. like every word. you explained it so beautifully <33
Thanks! <3
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